I've been writing about returning to regular life, as if any part of life stays regular for very long. I'm thinking of all the federal workers who remain without money because of the partial shut down. Let us now offer up a quick prayer for all the governments that re-open today--and the federal agencies that remain closed because of the shutdown. I cannot imagine being a brand new U.S. senator or representative arriving to Congress today--so much that needs to be done and so little will to do it. I want to believe that people run for office because they have a vision of improving the world, not because they want to stonewall any movement at all.
I am about to head to a spin class that is a special option for January. My wellness center is having a contest; the person who attends the most spin classes in January gets a spot at the spinathon in February, which is at least a $25 value. I'll play along, even if it means going to a 5:30 a.m. spin class.
My friend posted on my Facebook timeline: "It's 4:22 and I've made it to the last episode of Wolf Hall. You up? I'm guessing you're either baking or writing!"
I wrote back: "I have been writing! Baking is much harder--I have a stove, but not much work space. Some day, it would be lovely to have small cottages/dwelling spaces near each other. We could devise a system of lights in the window. Twinkly lights would mean we're working/watching/not wanting to be disturbed. A solid shining light would mean the kettle is on and the scones are baking. Ahhhh, dreams of the future!"
I love that vision of a community close by, but not living under the same roof. I still have this vision of a plot of land with little cottages and several communal spaces.
But as I've been writing and Internet zipping, I've been thinking about how Facebook/online life gives me a foretaste of the feast that may or may not come. I love that my friends can reach out if we're both awake/free to communicate at the same time. If I'm immersed in something else, I can wait before I answer. Or we can have a discussion.
It's not as good as a pot of tea and fresh baked scones, but it's better than the more solitary life I once had as an artist back in the 90's.